Out of Mandos: The Vow Restored
by Neon Star
Summary: PG for now. Glorfindel comes back to Arda, and comes to fulfill his vow to protect Elrond, but how can a child protect Elrond?
1. Default Chapter

This is a complete and total rewrite of Out of Mandos, since I found the other one lacking, and refreshed my memory after reading Silm again, thus I created this one. The old version is still on the site for now, and will remain so for a little while. I want your opinions, should I continue the old version, or this? As soon as I decide, with the gracious help of you excellent readers, I shall either take one or the other down. Thanks. :)  
Out of Mandos; The Vow Restored  
  
Glorfindel's POV  
  
Mandos echoes with the sounds of the spirits passing through its ever-long halls. Many call out for to Nienna for strength, and some call out to Namo for mercy. My companion and I however, are silent in our thoughts, and move not from where our ethereal forms stand. We can feel a change within the halls, we can feel it in the core of our beings, and we know that change is coming for us.  
  
My companion finally turns to me, his ever patient blue eyes sparkling with hope, for he and a few others have held on to such hope of being released from our memories, from our prison, to walk again among the living, and those that survived us. I, however, would have long since surrendered hope, had the memory of the vision the Valar had sent me ere I died not plague me constantly. The hazy vision of a child with raven hair, and stormy gray eyes has been with me since I fell with the Balrog, and torments me constantly.   
  
'Glorfindel, do you not hear that?' he asks softly, his voice echoing in my mind, for we had no voices as we are of the dead.  
  
I hear the clear sound of footsteps within the halls, footsteps that we both know well. Namo has come, and I can feel our time is at hand.  
  
"I do, Ecthelion," I whisper, and we wait.  
  
He comes upon us, and the halls seem to fade in his presence. Eyes as black as the night without stars looked upon us, and I suppress a shudder at the weight of knowledge that they seem to place upon me. Another flash of the child, tall and strong, filters through my mind's eye, and I wondered if he is connected to the Lord of Mandos's approach.  
  
"I have wish to speak with both of you," Namo says.  
  
"Speak, hir nin," Ecthelion speaks up, sensing my own unwillingness.  
  
Namo nods, and the halls fade entirely, leaving us within an endless space of gray.   
  
"Do you remember your deaths?" he asks quietly, and I shudder once more as Ecthelion nods.  
  
My companion only remembers his death, and he remembers it being more pleasant then how I felt it as. I felt his death, saw his pale form fall into the King's fountain with the Balrog upon him. I remember the waters turning red with their blood. I remember the emptiness that had come when his soul fled to Mandos. And of my own death, I can still distantly feel the flames melting the flesh from me, ripping my soul from my body... Namo's voice snaps me from my thoughts.  
  
"Those who you gave your lives for have lived on to bare children, and of those the fate of Arda now rests upon," Namo says softly.  
  
Another flash, the child older, stronger, wiser, a light shining from his soul. A brief smile, seemingly directed to me, gray eyes shimmering as if holding a secret. Again being ripped away by Namo's voice.  
  
"I'm sure you have both felt your duty incomplete, especially you, Glorfindel," Namo says, turning knowing eyes to me.  
  
I nod again, unable to say anything, my mind still lingering with that last image.  
  
"So we of the Valar have decided to give you a chance to return, but the choice does not linger with you," Namo continues.  
  
Yet again my mind is pulled away, crossing off to find the child again, fully grown, an adult now, with someone who looks identical to he who I am drawn to. I can tell who is the one I have had visions of though, for in his eyes shimmer the birth of true wisdom, and the sorrow of the Elder is within his face, while the other is still bright with life, like of the second born, men, though wisdom is also beginning in his eyes.   
  
"The children," I mummer, pulling myself from my thoughts.  
  
Ecthelion looks at me knowingly, for he too has seen the child, or should it be children? I do not know, but I feel our fates are bond to theirs.  
  
"Yes, the children will decide your fates," Namo said softly, and raised his hand.  
  
The air shimmered above his hand, folding and condensing into an image of two young Elves, just into their adulthood, standing together in front of an Elven king, weathered by time and pain, yet strong and hail temperament was in his fair face.   
  
"They choose this night what their fates will be. Either they will choose to live on as Elder or die as men. And with their choice, your fates will be sealed," Namo said, then was silently as one of the dark haired Elves spoke, and I knew it was not mine, though my heart clenched with echoed pain as his words came forth.  
  
"I have thought long on this, King Gil-galad, far longer then ever I intended. It will pain me, far more then I shall ever know, for I shall be separated from all that I know, and love," he glances briefly at his twin, then finished in a near whisper, "Yet, I choose to be of the Edain, and die as such, for I wish to know what is beyond the circle of the world, and the Edain need guidance, which none of the Elder race can offer."  
  
The King, who I now knew as Fingon's son, nodded, a slight grieved look upon his face, "As expected, Elros. May you be satisfied with your choice," Gil-galad said softly, then turned to the other, my Elfling, or should I say Elf?, "What of your choice, Elrond?"  
  
He pauses, though he is not uncertain, I can feel his decision in my soul, and I know not whether to cry or rejoice.  
  
"Though my heart yearns to follow my brother onwards, I fear I will not travel his path, for my own lies upon a different road," Elrond says, and takes a deep breath, "I choose to be counted among the Elves, for I feel that there will be need for me before the end."  
  
Then the vision goes dark, and disappears. Glancing at Ecthelion, I see there are tears in his delicate blue eyes, and my heart weeps for him, though I know not why, until Namo speaks up, his voice grave and heavy with knowledge.  
  
"And so it is, and so your fates are sealed, for once they will be separated, until the time at hand," he says, and the pain in my heart grows with each word, "As Elros has chosen mortality, Ecthelion is to remain in the halls until his death, for Elros will have no need of his guardian. But you, Glorfindel," he centers his gaze on me, "You shall journey forth back into Arda, and shall take your place at your charges side, to defend and protect his soul from the evils to come, for fate will not be kind to him. He has chosen this for you, yet you must decide if you will follow through."  
  
I nod, my heart trembling in grief in pain. I turn to Ecthelion, my soul brother, my charge and true friend in our lives past. We have never truly been apart, yet Namo asks me to choose to separate from him. Could I truly do it?  
  
Ecthelion sees the battle within me through his tears, and smiles wanly as he lays a hand on my heart, "Though we will be separate for a while, our hearts and souls will forever be connected. Have no fear, dear friend, for you shall see me again."   
  
I place a hand upon his, knowing his words are true, but it does not ease the pain, "I know, yet my heart grieves."  
  
"As does mine, and that is only what is to be expected. Would we not grieve and be considered of the true dead in soul? Nay, we are alive in our true forms, and we do grieve, but only for a little while, for even an age or two is not so long between us," Ecthelion says, and I nod, my heart resigned to what I must do, I cannot leave the child to his dark fate, thus I must separate from my brother. It is a sacrifice that I must give, and it is a pain I must bear.  
  
Turning to Namo, I nod again, this time in consent, for my throat is too tight to give out the words.  
  
"So be it. Return to life, Glorfindel of old, and remember within the depths of your soul, when all else has been washed away in your rebirth, your destiny is entwined with Idril's grandson's, and even your vow binds you ever to his side," Namo says, then raises his hand.  
  
A pain unlike any I have ever felt grows within me, becoming a maddening fire with in moments. Flinching from even Ecthelion's touch, I fall to my knees as darkness descends upon my mind. Images run through my mind, too fast to even grasp as they fly through me like water in a raging river. I do not scream, for the pain is too great for even that. Then a swift and brutal pain comes to my suffering soul, like if something dear was being torn from me, and just before I lose all sight and mind, I see Ecthelion's dear blue eyes, streaming tears of pain for me, and for him. Then all is black. 


	2. Elrond's POV

This has been sitting on my hard drive since before I took my break. I'm rather shocked to find it, really, when I should have had it up months ago. I am truly sorry for the wait, thanks for the wonderful comments. I've decided Out of Mandos, the original, will be changed, instead of scrapped, as I like this version of the original idea better, so the two will be two different stories. I hope you enjoy this.:)  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elrond's POV  
  
Golden hair, bright green eyes, gentle soul near my own, fighting off my pain, giving me comfort from the storm that rages in me at my brother's death. Waking from such comfort, to the monstrous pain that has been my companion since Elros's death. I know not how to deal with it, or the dreams, for both are too much for me to work upon when the grief is still fresh, and the tear in my soul still bleeding.   
  
I rise, to find that it is still night outside, and resign myself to my next sleepless night. I know not why such a dream would constantly awaken me; I know not what they mean, I only know that they are meant to tell me something. Who is this spirit that comforts me in the aftermath of my twin's death? I know not, for I know none that match what I have been allowed to know. Golden haired, with emerald green eyes, and a soul both old, wise, powerful, and innocent? Where could one find such a combination? None of the older members of the Elven race are innocent in their souls, for all have done some crime in their lives, or have seen too much in the wretched wars. So who could it be, if indeed it is a person? Yes, it is a person, it is a being, and this being is meant to be in my destiny, though I know not why...  
  
I need to clear my mind, I need air. Gil-galad's palace is airy enough, for it has many windows and doors. But I need the scent of the sea, the crash of the waves upon the shore, the wind streaming into my face and air. I need peace to reflect, but not silence to remember. I don't want to remember.  
  
Changing into a loose pair of pants and an airy tunic, I head outside, and down to the beach. The light of the stars shines down upon me as I walk, and I feel better, less confined out here among the sweet light of them and the moon. Breathing deeply, I head to my small cliff overhanging the sea, and sit down at its edge. I turn my eyes to the heavens, where I see my Father's star twinkling above. Closing my eyes, I let the wind sweep through my hair as I try to reflect, but only sorrow comes to me, and guilt.  
  
/I am sorry, Adar, I failed to follow him. I know I promised to stay by his side, but I could not choose the way he chose. I do not know why, I just couldn't,/ I sigh in my mind, letting my emotions wash through me, wishing for a way to relieve my pain, yet knowing I deserve it. We were supposed to stay together, yet our paths became separate, and in the end, I am alone, even among friends.  
  
I contemplate Mother's choice as I look into the sea, my eyes drawn to the gentle lapping waves that carve the land further with exceedingly slow care. I wonder if she felt so alone when our Father had been gone for so long, and wonder if that is one of the things that drove her to throw herself into the sea. I wonder if I would have had the strength to do it, but my mind turns swiftly from the thought, ere I truly consider it.  
  
Looking away from the starlit sea, my eyes catch upon something wet, yet golden, lying on the beach. Frowning slightly at the unusually sight, I climb down, and approach, only to realize that the something is an elfling, possibly no more then ten years of age. Running to the child's side, I gently turn him over, to find him naked and pale. Checking his pulse, I find it thready and inconsistent, and that his lips are blue. I open his mouth, and find nothing blocking his airway, then turn him to his side and begin to pound his back to bring up the water he has swallowed. Finally the boy coughs, water pours from his mouth, and his lips begin to grow pink with the effort as his lungs clear themselves. When the last of it passes, I turn him back onto his back, and behold something that unsettles me deep within my soul. His eyes are emerald green, and shimmer with surprising power, and age old wisdom, buried deep within a veil of unknowing, all of it seemingly like a bright light hidden within his soul. Could this possibly be...  
  
I deny myself to finish that thought, because it cannot be possible, for this is only a child, and instead take off my shirt, cursing myself for not bringing my cloak like I should. Wrapping it around the small frame of the child, I lift him up into my arms, holding him tightly so to share what body heat I can. He snuggles close, seemingly uncaring that he does not know me, yet trusts me. Looking down at him, I find that I in turn trust him as well, though I have no reason to.  
  
Pushing the thought aside, I hurry on back to the palace, before the boy grows cold in the night air. He is already cold, his skin slightly like ice, and he shudders in my arms as his disturbingly wise eyes close, leaving him with the look of only an innocent child, with a strange light burning within him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Taking him directly to the healers' ward, I set him on the one of the beds, and start to check him over after waving Tenath, the night healer, off. He has no other injuries, not even a scrap or bruise on his fair skin. He doesn't even appear to be suffering from inhaling so much water, and watches me attentively as I work around him. All of this is strange, for how did he come to being nearly drowned and not receive any injury for it? How is he able to be awake and aware after near death? It is all very strange, and my suspicions increase as I continue my checking. His gaze unnerves me the most for some reason, possibly for that veiled existence that I can see within, that tells me I stand within the presence of someone great, old, and wise beyond time. But that is strange, for I also feel that I should protect this innocent being, who knows nothing of the evils of the world.  
  
This boy isn't a normal elfling, I'm not even sure if he truly is an elfling. He doesn't act like one, yet I can see the playful innocence in his eyes. Yet he doesn't squirm, doesn't scream for his parents, doesn't ask me constant questions like a normal child. He only sits, and stares at me, his bright eyes gleaming with an untold secret. This is far from unnerving.  
  
Finally I finish my examination, and allow him to sit up. Keeping his intense gaze on me, one tiny hand reaches up and starts playing with a lock of his hair, and he seems not to notice his own action, but that is the most natural action I have seen from him, the action at least marks him as something not so powerful, but more Elven.  
  
"May I ask who you are and what you were doing in the sea at this time of the night?" I ask, to distract my thoughts, and the question sounds somewhat harsh, though I meant for it not to be, but he seems not to notice it, an absent smile on his face for a reason I cannot fathom.   
  
"I know not," he says, and seems untroubled by that fact, though it begins to trouble me further.  
  
"You do not know your name, or you do not know why you were at the sea?" I ask.  
  
"Both," he says, and blinks, a slightly confused look briefly crossing over his eyes.  
  
Pressing my lips together in thought, I looked him over. He isn't Sindar, that was easy enough to see, even in such a child. He had the bearing of one of the High Races, of the elves of light, but that was impossible, all are adults, this child could not possibly be of them.... Yet I see the shimmer of a light I had never known, a light older then the sun and moon, burning in this child's eyes. So much is unraveling in his eyes.  
  
"You did not come from here," I say; stating it, rather then question it, because I can feel its true in the core of my soul.  
  
His little face scrunches in thought, and then he smiles, as he seems to remember something, "No, I came not from here."  
  
His speech is of the old tongue, of the tongue Maglor used... Quendi, and I understand it well, yet it seems strange to be coming from such young lips.  
  
"I thought not," I mummer, unsure of what to do now.  
  
"Yet, I remember you," he says softly, his eyes wide as they lock onto mine, and shock floods me. 


End file.
